


Once upon a disaster

by Friade



Series: Lautrec series [1]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Past Relationship(s), Relationship Issues, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 15:11:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17685848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Friade/pseuds/Friade
Summary: A long time ago, he had disappeared. He found a way to come back to Vesuvia, though, and he came back for his childhood friend.But Lautrec has grown up and it is at the palace's doors that Asra the magician is now banging.- And you, he asked, what have you become ?





	Once upon a disaster

 

The first Masquerade was a memory she didn't like to rehash. After all these years, it seemed almost irrelevant, far more disturbing out of context. She could still remember the face of the High Mother when she had announced her decision, this disapproving look that still didn't look surprised, as if Lautrec was intended to inflict this deception around her.

Yet she arrived to the palace in total anonymity among the other nuns. With her black veil on the head, Lautrec felt protected by this shared habit that made her integral part of a group.

 

      - I was working with my convent for this Masquerade, muttered Lautrec while caressing the border of her glass of wine, a drink she would have never been authorised then. We were in charge of the messes.

 

She could still remember the incessant reharsal, the singing and her aching throat at the end of a long day. The High Mother would always say her voice was too low, not the clear voice of a perfect angel. Unlike most of the other girls, Lautrec was unable to reach any high notes, it would come out as a high pitched fail. Lucio would rather say he loved it.

 

      - I hadn't seen the Count since he brang me to the Convent, years before. He sometimes came to visit the High Mother, but we were not allowed to speak to men. I tried to talk of him to my friends, they couldn't believe him as my benefactor.

      - Not so surprising, with what I've heard of him.

      - He was simplier at this time, she tried, used to close her eyes. He managed all these charity works…

 

Asra looked at her, not convinced by her vain attempts to save her lover. The picture of her childhood friend was strangely not matching the one of this young woman. It was almost like a fairy taile, the sad princess held captive in the empty castel.

 

      - A short while after our arrival, he came to assist one of our rehearsals. She made a gesture towards the abandonned church behind the window. My sisters were getting crazy at the idea of seeing him. We were even allowed to thank him for having us in the palace, so I also talked about this time he found me in the street.

 

She didn't dare to admit that he didn't recognize her at first. Her imrpoved version made the story more romantic, and she didn't fell telling how he had looked strangely at her when she didn't go away after bowing. She just couldn't have left like this, however, her will suddenly stronger than expected. Her legs had became one with the marble floor.

 

      - Yeah ? The Count had asked.

 

And she had just imploded. In a flow of quick and scattered words, she had recalled their fortuitous inconter, and now that he was just in front of her, how could she not thank him for the new life he had offered her ?

For a moment, the man stood still, stunned as her friends when she was trying to convince them, and for a second she feared to be as crazy as the nuns kept repeating to her.

Yet, after this freezing seconds, the Count had smiled upon her and in his eyes she saw that he recognized her.

 

      - He hadn't forgotten, she started again, concentrated on her memories. He talked to me a lot on this day, even if my convent didn't seem to appreciate. He was really sweet, the sweetest we've ever been to me since... Well, since the first time he helped me.

      - You were fifteen.

      - Sixteen, she rectified promptly. I was sixteen and I knew what I was doing.

      - What were you doing, exactly ?

 

Silent, she bit her lower lips, seeing again the disappointment of the High Mother. It was a frowning Asra was repeating perfectly now, and that Nadia wouldn't miss to reproduce as well.

 

      - After this, Lucio often came to see me, she confessed as a sin. He was really interested in me, in what was my life at the convent, if I liked it...

      - For how many times ?

 

As she looked at him without understanding, he made it clearer.

 

      - How many time, before you became his mistress ?

      - It... It hasn't been so quick... He was showing... Genuine interest in me and... Gradually...

 

She didn't dare to mention the dates in his room, with the so violent red walls that would exult her passion and her appetite, not the stolen kisses around the corner of a hallway. Something still had stopped her, though, a night they were sitting on top of each other on his enormous bed.

It was not her innocence, as she'd prefer to tell, nor the ring promissing him to another woman.

_I could never go to the convent again_

She could still hear her own voice, deepened by the debauchery of seeing this powerful man panting under the touch of her fingers. She had quickly slided them under the fabric pants he generally wore for their meetings, these same pants that would let her feel his arousal so easily. Lucio liked her voice like that, he would mutter that she was made to sigh and moan. It was so much more exciting than being always turned down by the High Mother.

She had no doubt, seeing his shiny eyes, that the sight of her soutane indecently lifted on her tigh was as much exciting.

 

      - The day of the Masquerade, she continued without looking her friends in the eyes, all of my friends were gathered around my bed when I came back from the church. Lucio had left a gift for me I understood immediatly.

      - What was it ?

      - It was almost... A wedding dress. Not really white, rather creamy. Short sleeves, a wonderful corset, and a cleavage ! I knew that if I dared to wear it, I could definitely make a cross on the convent. He was giving me the choice.

 

She kept silent the brazen way she had immediatly took off her soutane to change into this jewel. The exposed bruises and love-marks on her hips and collar had made the other nuns gasp in indignation, and she had smiled.

 

      - This evening, I watched the mess amongst the guests, she concluded while lowering her voice. Hand in hand with Lucio.

 

And even though years had passed a remaining restraint kept her from telling the whole truth to her friend, not when she was still wearing the childish ring he had given her. The memory was burning and imperishable. Lautrec had a provocative nature, and the years of boredness only had attenuated the spicy vivacity she kept inside of her.

In front of Asra, though, she almost felt the soul of a traitor.

 

      - What happened ? He noticed without effort. Between this day and what you're now ? Lautrec, your aura is almost... Off.

      - I'm not saying we've had no problems, I was young and some things have been... Difficult to accept.

      - You're talking of his wife ?

 

With stiff muscles, she raised her shoulders in an attempt to look relaxed. It was still painful for her.

 

      - There's been compromises to do, she summarized briefly. Being the Count's mistress implies a couple of things, I guess.

      - It doesn't imply to lose yourself, Lautrec. You look so much more... Quiet.

 

If she almost laughed, the sound her throat issued sounded way more like a plea. She could still remember the gossips about her, after her establishing in the palace, and how the courtiers wouldn't stop complaining about this favourite too young and too noisy. She had been an explosive lover, the only one to be heard shouting at the Count during an argument, the only one to make her voice stand in front of the whole palace. She had provoked a thousand times in a thousand ways, and she still remembered the time she was the only thing this place could talk about.

Perhaps had she faded away in the process. There'd been so many high and low with Lucio, she easily believed it had consumed a part of her energy.

 

      - Whatever they say about me, she hissed, being the favourite isn't especially easy. I may be a bit tired.

 

She sadly considered how this tiredness had nothing to see with what she was previously experiencing. The burning arguments that ended by rough love-making had became vain et silent disappointment, and the more she rested the more the tiredness would grow.

A few years before, it would just have been a short time of peace in the hurricane of her life.

 

      - I'm not saying it's easy, Asra surprised her. I'm not even saying this is normal. You shouldn't have to share your man with a bunch of mistresses, you shouldn't have to bear the thought.

 

She relaxed when he took her ringed hands with his, a bit darker. She may had one everything she could, never Lautrec had smootheed them like a lady's ones. The memories of her life in the street, and therefore with Asra, would stay printed in her calousal palms.

A pitoyable little peasant, the Court would say.

 

      - Asra, do you resent me ? She finally whispered.

 

Since his arrival, after so many years apart, he hadn't said a word about her relationship with the Count. He must have not expected to be directed to the palace while saying her name, and all the horrible things the city must have said about her.

 

      - Do you love him ? He asked without answering.

      - If I love him ? I know him better than he does. I... I definitly loved him, even though I'm a at a loss for the moment.

 

She saw his face fading, so she grabbed his hands harder as it could make him feel the thin and modest ring she still had at her left annular.

 

      - No matter how the time has passed, she continued, seeing his face brightening up. I never forgot you, Asra.

 

For the first time in a long, lonely time, she felt her breast fighting to bloom anew, like the nature would finally reclaim a burned and devasted land. The feelings she thought dead were more vivid again.

 

      - I thought you were dead, Asra. For seven years. You can't imagine how long this is.

      - I perfectly imagine.

 

He sighed, leaning towards her, and she felt her cheeks hottening strangely. How many time since she felt this for the last time ?

 

      - I am so relieved you were not in the streets, you know. All these years, I was thinking of you. I was so afraid you'd be by your own, abandonned.

      - I know what it is to worry. You were constantly in my head.

 

She thought of her child, Lucille, her radiant green eyes. She had fight to call her by the name of her friend, but Lucio never agreed. Eventually, she had given up.

Even though she certainly shouldn't, she came even closer the magician. Their hands were still connected, and she was starting to feel something different. The roaring flow of his energy was beating against her palms, the rythm of the blood constantly increasing. It was stronger than most of the things she was feeling at the moment, and it grew louder and louder, until the point she almost heard the dancing energies claping one against the other.

 

      - You feel it too, right ?

 

Asra seemed so glad when she was almost feeling afraid of this powerful link between their hands.

 

      - I do, she nodded, letting him free. It's been long since I've witnessed magic.

      - Did you not train ?

      - It wasn't allowed in the convent, she scolled. And here...

 

Hard to admit that she actually almost forgot her ability to cast spells. Without master and in the restraining religious environment, it litteraly slipped her mind. She remembered being good, though, or at last Asra used to say that.

 

      - You were magnificient, he said like a memory.

 

His praising was like a fuel, and she dared to take a look at her hands and arms. A long time ago, she was able to feel her energy cursing through her veins like hot blood. If Asra hadn't been there, she'd swear it was only a dream.

 

      - The source must be dried up, she muttered oddly.

 

Asra seemed to understand, though, and he smiled at her blank face.

 

      - You'll always be a great magician, Lautrec, he reassured her. Have you ever tried to follow my parent's book ?

      - You don't... have it ?

 

For a second, she expected him to fall into pieces, but he quickly found his composure back. Still, she could picture him, lost in his oversized clothes, almost hidden behing the impressive cover of the book.

 

      - I'll find it, he said peacefully. Just as I found you.

 

This book had been their only treisure, at the time, and Lautrec knew perfeclty how it was important for the little orphan. He had the chance to have a memory from his parents. The idea of this book being destroyed was as painful for her.

As a flash, she saw the smooth piece of pink fabric she was keeping in her cabin.

 

      - Maybe I'm not the only thing you've found today, she stood up. Wait for me.

**Author's Note:**

> Okkkkkk, so this comes from really nowhere, and I don't know where it leads. So stay tuned for the next part of this incredible mess.


End file.
